


He Pulled His Hit

by probablyferal



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: F/M, Gratuitous Smut, Opposites Attract, Porn Without Plot, Probably bad porn, Public Sex, Smut, also guild mate accused me of not being able to write JUST smut, and I'm down with that, he's basically right, human warrior, i think, mage verses warrior, night elf mage, probably hate fucking, they bang in aszuna, this is pure smut, warriors don't like mages, ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 11:46:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12983406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/probablyferal/pseuds/probablyferal
Summary: What begins as a duel to prove who the better fighter is, quickly dissolves into something a lot more interesting than flinging spells and swinging swords. Takes place within Aszuna, on the cliffs over looking the entrance to Eye of Ashara. Because who doesn't want to do battle in a pretty place?





	He Pulled His Hit

**Author's Note:**

> I was accused of not being able to write straight up smut, and I have decided that's pretty much the truth. So, here is my attempt at porn without plot, and somehow there is plot being sneaky and finding its way into the sex story. BOY HOWDY DID I STRUGGLE with this, because mostly I hate mages, and I'm pretty much a Horde fan girl. So. ENJOY.

She puffed and blinked out of his reach just in time, leaving behind an icy flow to slow him. The warrior roared, the chill seeping into his plate, slowing him. He needed to move, and fast.

Quickly he leapt from the miniature blizzard, landing feet from the mage, who blinked again, this time much closer to the bridge. This wasn’t how he had planned his day in Azsuna, but surprises were everywhere in the Broken Isle. The warrior made to close the distance between him and the mage, only to find icicles gluing him to the grown. He roared in response, barely maneuvering his body out of the way of a massive lance that came soaring toward his head. 

The mage simple smirked, raining hail on top of her foe. Soon enough, he broke loose again, giving chase – he wondered how much more she had in her. Soon enough she’d run out of mana, that was the way it went. He ran on rage, they ran on mana. Mana was finite, rage came with every attack she landed. Her luck was running out, however. He brought the hilt of his sword into her chest, and she wheezed, instinctively slapping the warrior with the back of her hand.

She blinked again.

“You’re pulling your hits!” Another lance came whizzing at his head, slamming into his shoulder, only barely.

This time she launched a succession of ice bolts at him, two slamming him into the chest. Azsuna was warm, and beautiful, but he couldn’t help shivering under the mage’s abilities. He’d have to shake it to finish this, otherwise his armor would stop bend properly. With a great heave, he pushed himself, slamming into the mage, pulling her into his grasp and lock his gauntlet over her mouth.

They struggled a moment, kicking and grunting against each other, before she knocked him clear back twenty feet and encased herself in a block of ice.  
Panting, he righted himself, swinging his sword once, twice and at ready.

“You can’t stay there forever,” he chided with a chuckle, “you’re going to have to face me at some point.”

The seconds ticked by seemed like eternity, and he paced the shining block of ice. Experience told him that this was usually the final tactic of mages to keep themselves from getting pulverized. Experience told him, if he just pushed a little harder, he’d win. So, he waited, and paced. 

The block seemed to shimmer and melt, and the sword came down into nothing – she blinked again, this time toward a cliff face and a few trees. He tore off after the mage, only to find himself slowed. Her high shrill of laughter just irked him enough that he forced himself through, just fast enough that her laughter silenced, and she tore away trying to put anything between him and her now. 

Out of luck, he thought smugly. Knowing she was in no real danger, he slammed his sword into the tree, cutting out a sizeable chunk, her scream music to his ears. She’d peel left, away from his blade.

Right into his grip. His gauntlet landed squarely over her mouth again, effectively silencing her, and pulling him into his grasp. He had abandoned his sword, and held onto the wriggling creature the best he could. She was not making it easy, that was certain.

“Concede – you’ve lost, you panicked – ah, shit,” he growled, his head next to her. She landed a fairly painful kick into his shin, and while it didn’t collide with bone, his plate vibrated in a painful way, pinching.

She managed to free her mouth, beating against his arm, “you cheated! Fuck you!”

The ire was refreshing, bordering the warrior’s own fuel. She was still new to the whole adventurer business, her ego a rung or seven higher than where it should be. He felt satisfaction in her defeat.

“Admit it,” he said in a low husky voice, “you’re still too emotional, you panicked, and it cost you.”

“Well, it isn’t exactly fair when you’re swinging a sword at my head!”

She managed to spring free, and with a nimble hop turned to face the warrior, tossing another bolt of ice into his face. That was all it took for the warrior to lose it. She had lost, fair and square, and here she was still rambling on, trying to save face. He tackled her, sending them both sprawling onto the ground, her fists still beating futilely against the plate on his chest and shoulders. 

“Off me, damn human!” 

“You’re insufferable,” though he certainly didn’t want to actually hurt her, he fumbled grabbing at her hands, and keeping her from her continued assault, “stop being so damn stubborn!”

“Fuck you!” She hissed again, trying to get her knee into his side to throw him. And while she was a Night Elf, he still had the advantage in weight. Plate added more weight than she could throw, and with that he found it easier to find his knees in the ground, pinning the woman, “fight me fairly!”

With an annoyed frown he crashed into her, their lips meeting. She nipped at him, drawing blood, but it didn’t deter him, the warrior only forcing her down again as she tried to push back into him. He gladly bit back, leaving a raised dark purple mark on her lip, and a pout on her face.

“That defiantly isn’t fair,” she whined, and knees that had the intent of forcing him off her originally, now wrapped about his waist, keeping him close.

“Don’t you ever shut up?”

She returned his frown, twisting her hands to free herself. She was quick to work at the buckles on his waist, and once he got the idea he too proceeded to help. They mumbled to each other, something about the plate, something about the weapons, as his armor slide off, and her robes came undone. He swore softly, always astonished at the Night Elf every time he saw her like this, under him. 

“Hurry up, someone will see.”

“I’ll do what I please, woman,” he growled, with a firm hand now against her thigh, stroking in long succession down the smooth skin of her leg. She was shivering under him now, her own hands trailing across his hips. She clawed at him, finger tips from the points of his hips to the base of his cock.

“Fine, you’re going to be impatient,” he huffed, wrapping his hands around her thighs and pulling her to direction – she let out a surprised yelp as he rutted against her, trying hard to find his mark. She was wet and ready, wiggling under him and now propped on her elbow with an expectant look.

There was no grace in his action, just sank into her, impaling her against himself, and she made the most beautiful noise his ears had ever heard. A long, wanting look as she shuddered against him, trying to adjust to the sudden fullness she was experiencing, but the warrior would give her no such reprieve. 

There, in the undergrowth and sunshine he retreated and slammed back into the mage, drawing another gasp and moan from the elf. He could feel her nail rack against his skin as his hand slid under her to lift her for a better position. The sudden lift of her hips left her on her back with a thud, and a sly smile across the human’s face. She squeezed her thighs against his ribs, forcing the air out of him, only to find her legs pushed back against her shoulders.

“I won, fair and square, no more fighting,” he hissed, withdrawing, and slamming himself against the elf again. Her squeals were medals of honor, as far as he was concerned. Still, she squirmed, gasping for air. He let her rise, only to throw her on her stomach, entering into her once again, arms wrapped around her shoulders, throwing his full weight on top of her.

She was pulling up grass by the roots, her voice was ragged, and the warrior was absolutely enjoying every aspect of his work. He hushed her, his own head just to the left of her, assuring that someone would hear her, with every movement of his hips against hers. Assuring her that if she didn’t silence herself, they would be caught, and a human had nothing to lose, after all. Her response involved a slight arch of her back, and almost in tandem with the elf, he moved fluidly to balance above her back.

Somewhere along the lines she had managed to work a bit of her robe into her mouth and bit down on it. The warrior’s own breath was growing ragged now, nearing his own end. With a groan, he withdrew, spilling himself across her back.

And what a sight to see. He grinned to himself, coming to sit on his knees, panting at the twitching elf below him. Twice he won in one day. He bet quietly to himself that she probably was losing purposefully. Still, a win was a win.


End file.
